Impossible Demand
by TesubCalle
Summary: Tag to Season 3 episode 'Bait'. Written in response to an NFA Community weekly writing challenge. Examines the character of Kody Meyers, pre-episode.


**Impossible Demand**

By TesubCalle

**W****hen Angela Meyers failed to return on schedule** from her solo sailing trip, her husband, Major Ken Meyers, and son, Kody, didn't panic; not in the beginning. Then two hours became twelve, highly unusual for the woman who was an experienced and passionate sailor. There hadn't been any foul weather in the forecast, so there was no reason to believe her tardiness was due to inclement conditions.

The Coast Guard discovered her unmanned craft five days later, adrift. Her life jacket was found, unused, inside the cabin. With no trace of the woman anywhere, and no reports of a 'mayday' from the day she initially vanished, investigators were starting to come to the conclusion that Angela Meyers must have accidentally gone overboard and was drowned.

Fourteen-year-old Kody was plunged into a depression at the loss of his mother. It had been another blow for him during a year of upheaval as his father had just been transferred to Quantico as an amphibious warfare instructor. New city, new school, new classmates... but the same old situation. The jocks still messed with him, and the girls still ignored him. Not that he really wanted to fit in the with stupid football players or have a steady girlfriend at this point (though he thought that one girl, Nadia, was kind of nice) – but it would have been a welcome change to just be treated with respect for once.

Kody became more withdrawn as the year progressed. His fifteenth birthday came and went without fanfare. With the exception of the junior UN and chess club at school, he kept his other passions to himself. His world began to expand virtually instead, in the realms of cyberspace. Kody kept a private on-line blog filled with teenage ramblings about death and dying, adorned with macabre images of skulls, graveyards and coffins. He painted his room black and shunned his classmates. He'd write almost daily about his angst-filled meanderings.

_How did it feel to die? Was there life after death? Did the souls of the dead visit the living?_

His therapist reservedly seemed to believe it was a healthy enough outlet. Dr. Phillips wasn't even terribly concerned that Kody even swore he saw his deceased mother one afternoon. _Natural coping mechanism_, he'd explained to Major Meyers, _the product of a grief-filled imagination and wishful thinking. He'll get over it._

It ate away at Kody that his mother, a seasoned sailor, hadn't been wearing her life jacket when she disappeared. She knew better than that; had lectured him from the time he was old enough to accompany her on-board that it was imperative the jacket be worn at all times. It was a feeling akin to betrayal that she'd seemingly ignored her own cardinal rule.

Then came the afternoon he thought he saw her among the crowds at the Smithsonian's National Museum of the American Indian during _Los Días de los Muertos_. Days of the Dead. The face he'd found so dear and familiar had vanished just as quickly as he'd seen it. Kody spent the next three hours desperately combing the rest of the faces that surrounded him. It was a fruitless search, one that sent him home with fresh wounds of heartbreak and feelings of abandonment.

Once home, he could not be deterred from the notion Angela Meyers was among the living. Kody had no logical explanation for his conviction. He was terribly conflicted about it, though. His mother _loved_ him and his father. She wouldn't run away from them, ever. She had no discernible reason to leave. So he focused his efforts on conducting an on-line inquiry. Kody posted his favourite recent picture of Angela, asking anyone if they'd seen her. He reasoned if he had at least seen her at the Smithsonian, someone else might remember seeing her, where she went, who she was with.

Over time, Kody received a handful of replies from some promising individuals, but those were ultimately dead ends. Until the evening he got a reply from someone calling himself 'Mr. Bogota'. Heart leaping, Kody read that 'Mr. Bogota' knew Angela's whereabouts, and if he wanted, they could meet and discuss it the next day; he just had to name the place and time. He was instructed to come alone, as the information about Angela was sensitive in nature. Kody felt an instant bond with 'Mr. Bogota'. Angela was originally from Colombia. He somehow felt this had to be legitimate. If for some crazy reason his mother felt she had to seek refuge somewhere, she might very well do so among her compatriots.

Kody chose a public, open place for the rendezvous, for safety's sake. He waited with increasing impatience for two hours. 'Mr. Bogota' did not show.

The next two days, Kody stewed in his misery, anger and disappointment. There had been no further contact from 'Mr. Bogota' on his missing person inquiry web page. His anger nearly flared up a few times, especially when Joe, the jock who always went out of his way to make his life miserable, shoved him into an open locker. Kody was beyond caring and retaliation. It had never really been his style to fight back, anyway.

On the third evening after the failed attempt at the meeting, Kody was checking his on-line messages again. Unbelievably, 'Mr. Bogota' was back. The message was short and apologetic, but also requested another meeting off-base early the next morning before classes. 'Mr. Bogota' claimed all would be explained then.

Kody replied in the affirmative. He went to bed, hardly able to sleep due to the excitement and anticipation of what was to come in the morrow. He finally fell into a dreamless sleep, but his alarm clock woke him the next morning to what would turn into a living nightmare.

A dark, non-descript van pulled up alongside Kody as he was approaching the pre-planned destination on foot.

He took a moment to notice the vehicle had slowed to a stop in front of him. He was almost past the passenger-side door when a gruff, accented voice commanded him to halt. Kody recognized the lilt; it was similar to the one he knew in Angela's voice. Only this one was distinctly male. He turned to see who'd spoken, and found he was staring down the barrel of a pistol. The face behind the gun held a stone cold expression.

"Get in," the thug ordered.

Too stunned to react, Kody remained frozen in place.

"If you want to see your _madre_ again, _niño_, you will get in!"

Kody shook himself and opened the side door to the van, and climbed in. He shut the door behind him. He noticed the gun remained trained on him the entire time.

It took a second to realize there was a second person in the back with him, presumably the person who'd been driving.

"You will put _this_ on," thug #2 commanded, his voice sporting a thicker Colombian-accented English than his counterpart.

Kody's breath caught in his throat. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that he was being handed a suicide bomb vest.

"Are you _insane?_" Kody cried.

Thug #2 grinned menacingly. "I think the only _loco_ one here is you, _amigo_. You are playing a dangerous game, putting your _madre's_ picture for all the world to see like that. Put it on, now!"

The forcefulness in the man's voice startled Kody. "Why?" he whispered.

"So you can see your _madre_ again," thug #1 chimed in, hand still tightly gripping his weapon. "We will explain how this will work. You do everything as we say, and you will not get hurt. Disobey, and you will be sorry."

Kody slowly shrugged off his backpack and his hooded blue sweater. He carefully strapped on the vest over the sky-blue T-shirt he was wearing, making sure not to depress the trigger on the hand-held device that might detonate the bomb and send them all sky high.

"_Bueno_," thug #2 said approvingly. "Put this in your ear, also."

Kody took the proffered earwig in his hand. He looked at it for a few moments, and inserted it in his right ear.

"_Uno, dos, tres_," #2 said through a tiny microphone. The words were duplicated instantaneously through Kody's earwig. "Do you hear that?" the man asked.

"Yes, I heard. What am I supposed to do with all this?" Kody asked quietly, head still spinning at the suddenness of what was happening to him.

"You are going to force the people who are hiding your _madre _to return her to you," #1 replied.

"People are hiding her? H-how do you know she's being hidden?" Kody asked, puzzled at this piece of information.

Thug #1 chuckled. "You really don't know anything about your _madre_, do you?"

Kody frowned at this. He was truly starting to be frightened at this turn of events, and was cursing himself inside repeatedly, for foolishly agreeing to meet with a total stranger. These people were definitely dangerous, and it was all he could do to keep his wits about him. He felt they were keeping something extremely important from him, but he had no idea what. "You're from Colombia, just like my mom, aren't you?" he asked.

"Maybe," #1 said enigmatically.

"And maybe we are not. But know this, Kody: we are in control," #2 said, and he produced a remote detonator. "You will take your class hostage. It is room _tres y cero y cinco, sí_ ?"

Kody mentally translated. Room 305. He swallowed and nodded in the affirmative. _How did they know that?_ Panic was starting to creep in, now. "How am I supposed to do that?" he asked.

"I think they will listen to you with that bomb you are wearing, Kody," thug #2 replied. He opened a laptop computer and turned it to face Kody. With alarm, he saw he was watching what appeared to be a live feed from one of the webcams from inside his own classroom. He couldn't even begin to fathom how that had been accomplished.

"When the _policía_ arrive, as they are sure to do," #2 continued, "you will tell them you want to see your _madre_, in the flesh, in your classroom, before the sun goes down today. Otherwise, you will explode your bomb."

Kody inhaled sharply. His emotions raged inside him. "Who are you people?" he whispered.

Thug #1 cocked his head and said condescendingly, "We are people who want what you want, Kody: to see Angela Ortega Vivanco Meyers, here, today."

Kody felt his level of panic increase a hundredfold. They knew his mother's full name, and he hadn't revealed that information on his web page. This was very, very wrong, but he was trapped now. They were in control.

"I remind you again, Kody: disobey, and you will be sorry. We control everything. We will be able to see and hear everything you do inside that school. You will follow every instruction we give you." Thug #2 pointed to the earwig.

"And...what if they can't find my mother?" Kody asked miserably, already growing weary at the prospect of actually carrying out this imposed mission.

"Do not ask the price of failure, Kody," #1 replied.

"This isn't about me or my mother, or anything, is it?" Kody asked. "You're just a bunch of psycho terrorists who want to kill a bunch of people, aren't you?"

Both men started to laugh. "We are not terrorists, Kody," #1 said. "Again, I tell you: we want to see your mother, too."

"But _why?_ She's...she's dead, alright? I made all that stuff up that I wrote on my website. Please...lemme go. I can't do this. I want out!"

"I do not think so, Kody. You wrote that you saw her at the museum, no?" Thug #2 said in disagreement. "We believe what you believe: that she is very much alive, and you are going to do what we ask. Do not tempt us to harm some of your innocent school friends, because we have the power to so do."

Kody closed his eyes and put his face in his hands. _Mom...if you're really alive... I don't know who these guys are, how they know you or why they want to see you so bad. All I know is I want you back. I want you back so bad! But I'm so afraid they're gonna kill people, so I have to do what they're telling me to do. I miss you so much, Mom..._

After a few moments of silence, Kody looked up and said: "I'll do what you say. Just...please promise me you won't hurt anybody else, okay?"

"You make a wise choice, Kody Meyers," thug #1 said smilingly.

#2 shut the laptop and climbed into the driver's seat. "Your classes await you, Kody," he said, as he started the engine. He put the van in gear and started to drive. "We will drop you a safe distance away from the building so no one will see you with us."

"Do not attempt to alert anyone, and do not disappoint us!" #1 said menacingly. "Remember that we have the detonator. I will be very sorry if I have to use it before you can see your _madre_ again."

Kody sighed in resignation. "I understand," he said. He'd broken into a cold sweat as he sat in the back of the truck, and his stomach lurched at every corner the van took.

They pulled to a stop on a street within walking distance of the school.

"We have arrived," thug #1 announced. "Zip up your sweater. We do not want anyone to know about that bomb right now, do we?"

Kody did as he was told while both men watched.

"Get out, now," #2 commanded, satisfied that the bomb was properly concealed. Kody opened the van's sliding door and hopped out.

"Go to your classroom as ordinary. Remember; we are watching you, Kody," #2 said over the earwig. "You know what is at stake."

Kody forced his feet to move in the direction of his school. _I'm really doing this_, he thought to himself. He felt like he was moving in a daze. He was almost grateful he was almost a non-entity on among his peers. There would be no one to stop and greet him to make small talk; no one to interrupt him and possibly risk getting killed if those Colombian thugs saw it as a sign of rebellion.

As he walked along the campus, Kody came to the startling conclusion that for all the time he'd spent blogging about death and dying; all the hours he'd spent exploring the darkness and the hollow emotions in the wake of the loss of his mother, the only thing he wanted to do now was _live_.

END


End file.
